-- O Druimfhionn Donn Dilis!
O Silk of the Kine!
Where goest thou for sleeping?
What pastures are thine?
-- In the woods with my gilly
Always I must keep,
And 'tis that now that leaves me
Forsaken to weep.

Land, homestead, wines, music:
I am reft of them all!
Chief and bard that once wooed me
Are gone from my call!
And cold water to soothe me
I sup with my tears,
While the foe that pursues me
Has drinking that cheers.

-- Through the mist of the glensides
And hills I return:
Like a brogue beyond mending
The Sasanach I'll spurn:
If in battle's contention
I have sight of the crown,
I'll befriend thee and defend thee,
My young Druimfhionn Donn!